


The Cold

by CannibalCorruption



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalCorruption/pseuds/CannibalCorruption
Summary: Hannibal predicts that you are getting a cold - he's right. He helps take care of you.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Reader, Hannibal Lecter/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 93





	The Cold

I rushed home, my work meeting having run late. Hannibal was always patient and sweet about waiting if I was late but I would prefer not to make him wait if I didn’t have to do so. I made my way up to the door and pulled out my keys, out of breath. I opened the door and rushed inside.

“Perfect timing,” Hannibal said, carrying two glasses of wine into the dining room.

I hung up my coat and set my bag on the side table. “I’m so sorry, Hannibal – she just kept talking… I couldn’t get away.” I washed my hands in the kitchen and went to the dining room. The table was already set and I sat down across from him.

“No need to apologize,” he assured. “You’re just on time.”

“Just barely,” I told him. I sighed. “Anyway, what’s for dinner tonight? It all looks perfect, of course.”

“Something simple,” he informed. “Green salad and salt baked leg of lamb with olive oil potatoes.” I smiled, picking up my fork, and tucked into the salad. He looked at me a moment. “Are you feeling all right?”

I paused and looked up at him. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

He tilted his head to the side and took a bite of salad. “I’m afraid you have a cold, darling.”

My brow furrowed. “I don’t have a cold. Don’t jinx me.”

“You do – I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he pressed.

“I don’t have a cold,” I argued. “I’m completely fine. Just winded from rushing back home. And tired from listening to a gallery director drone on for two hours.”

He smirked and shrugged.

The next day, I woke up later than I usually do and I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, stretching out my sore muscles. Sore throat, aches and pains, headache, stuffy nose, etc. I brushed my teeth and went to the kitchen where I found Hannibal cooking.

“Morning…” I greeted weakly. “My alarm didn’t go off…”

“It did,” he told me. “I took your phone, waited for it to go off, turned off the alarm, and brought it back to you.”

I looked at him, my head pounding. “…Why?”

“You should rest today,” he said, pouring a cup of tea and handing it to me. “Lemon and ginger tea.”

“…Thanks?”

He put his hand up to my forehead. “As I thought, my dear, you have a fever. Are you hungry?”

“…How did you know I was going to have a cold?” I asked, blowing on the tea. He smiled and removed a cold, damp towel from the freezer. He pressed it to my forehead. The temperature was a relief.

“I could smell it,” he replied, tracing the towel down to my cheek.

I furrowed my brow at him, confused. “What does that mean?”

“You know I have quite the sense of smell.”

“That’s weird, baby,” I said through narrowed eyes. “That’s real weird.”

He chuckled. “Anyhow, you didn’t answer me. Are you hungry?” I thought for a moment and then shook my head. “Hmm… I’m not sure why I asked since you should eat something anyway. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll finish breakfast. I’ll bring it to you.”

“You don’t have to–”

“And you know I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to,” he assured.

“…Well, just something small, though, okay? I’m not really hungry…”

“All right.” He kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll have to keep an eye on this fever. Now, go lie down.” He handed me the cloth to take with me.

I still wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened and how he managed to predict my illness but I was in no state to question any of it. I went back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed, sipping my tea. The warmth eased my throat pain and the coolness of the cloth eased my headache a bit. After a few more sips, I lied down, wrapped myself up in the blankets, and dozed off.

I awoke to Hannibal setting a small tray down on the bedside table. There was yogurt with blueberries, scrambled eggs, and a glass of water.

“Something small as requested,” he said as I sat up. He handed me the bowl of scrambled eggs. I took a bite but was so stuffed up, I could barely taste anything.

“If I had working taste buds, I know I would be complimenting the chef,” I told him as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

He smiled. “I’m glad that today is my day off so I can take care of you.”

I smiled. “You really are the best, Hannibal. I don’t deserve you.” I continued eating small bites of the eggs.

“I’m far from any kind of good, my darling,” he commented. “And you deserve more than I can ever give you.”

“If my head wasn’t a mucus dispensary right now, I’d kiss the hell out of you, you know.”

“You can save it up and pay me back later,” he suggested with a smirk. He picked up the glass of water and handed it to me. “Now, drink up for me.” I took a sip and held it back out to him. “Some more, you need to stay hydrated.” I pouted but drank a few gulps. “Very good, my love.” I handed the glass back to him.

I ate as much as I could and sank back down into the covers.

“I’m full and my back hurts…” I told him, lying down on my stomach to get comfortable.

“I’m just glad you ate something,” he said, coming around the other side of the bed and lying down next to me on his side. He rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Mm…” I mumbled contentedly. “I’m gonna owe you a lot you, you know…”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

He continued to rub my back until I fell asleep. I might have been sick but as long as I was with him, I felt like the happiest woman in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:  
> [Writing Blog](https://cannibalcorruptionwriting.tumblr.com/)  
> [Main Blog (Mostly Self Ship)](https://cannibalcorruption.tumblr.com/)


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